Katrina Relief, Gulfport Mississippi 2008

Date   What's happening Friday, November 21,  - Saturday, November 22, 2008 Teaching Presbyter Steve Shussett and his family are traveling with Jim and Diane Millick of Faith Church in Emmaus and their family and friends, to help with Katrina-related reconstruction in Gulfport, Mississippi. They are staying at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Gulfport, where the Millicks have spent Thanksgiving week every year since Katrina happened.  As we traded out the vehicles, the vans we were taking out with the cars we were leaving behind, I sat in my car, idling as I waited for my turn in the queue. John Calvin says that of the six times we should pray daily, one is at the beginning of any good work. Before I could think about it, I sang the prayer of psalm and monk that I lift up regularly: “O God, come to our assistance, O Lord, make haste to help us. Glory be to the God who was, who is, and is to come, at the end of the age.” *** As is true among our own Helping Hands, the Millicks have gone to help Katrina-affected folks every year since the destruction happened. Jim shared that experience in a children sermon, with kids as young as four. On reflection, he had realized that for kids four years old and younger, post-Katrina and its difficult realities are all they know. I found that very striking. How many people, children and adults alike, have only known life in the context of fear, violence, and destruction? A Palestinian or Israeli my age has only known life in Israel on the basis of wars in the 1960s that helped germinate so much of the situation we know today. In some parts of Africa, if you live to age 35 you’ve known so much loss of family and friends, the threat of death from AIDS. A seven-year-old in Baghdad has only known chaos in the same but different way that a four-year-old has only known chaos in areas affected by Katrina. Yet how quickly and definitively things can change. Apartheid in South Africa came to an end. The Berlin Wall did fall. Here I am, driving through the deep south, and who could have anticipated five years ago that we would have elected an African-American president today? No matter how long we live, no matter how much something is ingrained and seems a part of life’s fabric, things do change. There can be peace. There is always hope. *** One of the oddities of this trip is that we pass the first church I served, or at least the town in which it is located. In the fifteen years since we left, we’ve been back once. Such a mix of emotions, including fondness for the friends we still have there whom we wouldn’t see at 12am. In the quiet of the car at that hour there was time to reflect on all that has happened since, very little of which we could have ever anticipated. With my recent Credo experience a lot of that is fresh, but to see the place, be in the place, injects these memories with new life. *** If I’ve talked to you at all about this trip, you’ve probably detected my barely-veiled lack of enthusiasm for being in the car all night. I don’t think I’ve done that in over fifteen years, and even though the reasons then are as good as they are now—a good friend’s wedding going late into the night in western Pennsylvania, followed by a good friend’s ordination the next morning in New Jersey—all I can remember of the actual travel is feeling miserable. So in God’s infinite wisdom and perverse sense of humor, not only was I in the car all night, but I got to drive the 12:30-5:30am shift. That God, what a riot… And yet—and you knew this was coming—it turned out to be a special time. It had the feel of Vigils to it, my favorite of the monastic services. It is held around 2am, dark, and a chill in the air, so quiet while everyone slept, yet their presence was tangible in their breathing and shifting. Lest you think piety has overcome me, you should know that no one was happier that the full gas tank we started with finally went “ping,” meaning a stop to re-fuel and switch drivers. But the time was far more peaceful and prayerful, and far less miserable, than I expected. *** As a born and bred Yankee, there are few stranger answers to the question, “Where are we?” than to hear “We’re in Alabama.” *** We stop for breakfast, and everyone is functional if not at their best. Simple questions are treated like riddles of the Sphinx, and simple decisions like a NASA moon mission. I’m glad to be out of the car for awhile, and have a case of happy feet. It pains me to have to explain that the music in the background is James Brown and “I Feel Good,” and how can you not dance to it? I’ve failed as a father. Then again, it could be worse. We pull out of the parking lot and as we gain speed we pull parallel to a truck in the next lane. There we see the driver, eating a bowl of cereal and milk.   Sign on the Van Trailers where we are staying - Oh the comforts of home! Church bell tower Our hosts, Westminster Presbyterian Church God is all in all, Steve Shussett   -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Sunday, November 23, 2008   When you look around the church, you can’t really tell anything ever happened. All the new roofs point out that there are no more older roofs. We’re told of the Millick’s first trip, when on entering Gulfport every sign on the street was gone. We pass the golf course that was once known as “Tent City,” covered the temporary shelters of the survivors. Today is a beautiful day, and it is covered with golfers. But later today we’re going out to see the work that some in our group did in previous trips, and the short trip down to the shore where there was so much devastation.  ***  It has been four years since Katrina hit, but the stories are told as if not so long ago at all. Joe and his wife moved to Gulfport from St. Louis, Missouri because of the weather. After years here, they’re a bit chilly just before Sunday worship, but for those of use from our neck of the woods and further north than that, it feels like spring. Joe tells us that and his wife left the area before Katrina hit, and did not come back from their son’s home until the all-clear was given. Their son wanted to come with them, but was told that if he left, there would not be a job for him on his return. With four kids, that was too heavy a price to pay. But their daughter and son-in-law were in a different place in their lives, and so when faced with the same threat, they left for Gulfport. The son-in-law found a better job than the one he left, but not until after he had helped with the family home. Imagine being faced with that: help your family and you lose you job.  *** With church and other necessities behind us, we took an extensive tour of the area. For Jim and Diane and many of the others, it was a chance to see how things have changed since last year. For Alicia, the kids and I, it was an up-close-and personal opportunity of a reality of which we’ve heard so much, but you really do have to see to believe. Empty lot after empty lot. Buildings blown out years after Katrina struck, sometimes just four corners and the framing for the roof.   Destroyed bldg  *** Churches were not spared, and for any who would say that one denomination or another is being punished, so then too are Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, and Catholics. Debris is scattered in yards and vacant lots, and sand still covers grass several miles from the shore. There are shattered trees, or a house here and a house there, or a whole row of houses, with more wrong than right to them. It is easy to see the brokenness and imagine the despair. But the signs are also here of rebirth, new life. We Presbyterians don’t seem to give Good Friday the full attention that it deserves. It is at its heart a difficult day, but in faith we learn that without death there is no resurrection. That if we aren’t afraid to look closely at death, we will see resurrection.   Presbyterian Church steeple *** A sign in front of a rebuilt home reads He is risen—and we will be too ***  The Millick's showed us Waffle Houses that had been destroyed, and in the last year the debris has been cleared and a new one is full of customers—it was like seeing a dandelion that just refuses to give up. *** In Long Beach we stopped by the Presbyterian Church where Helping Hands crews have stayed. The Millicks told us of buildings that were but are no more. But in their place is a playground, and campers for volunteers. The two people we met there remembered the Lehigh Presbyterians who have been there, and they like so many folks were just so grateful for the many who have volunteered in the area. My kids asked how they knew we were there to volunteer ourselves, and we said our accents and our blue shirts. We asked a woman for directions, and along with an extensive history of Mississippi (her husband lovingly behind her making his hand quack like a duck) she could not have been more thankful. *** We went through the campus of South Mississippi University, seeing the shells of our college buildings yet to receive any attention. We wandered all through it, but couldn’t find what we were looking for. We went out, drove around, and got directions, only to find what we missed the first time: the 500-year-old “Friendship Tree” that took root before Columbus set sail for the Americas. It is like something out of Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings. We were looking for a huge tree, and passed by right it. "Days pass and years vanish, and we walk sightless among miracles." A Sabbath Prayer     Friendship Oak: Kaitlyn, Daniel, Rachel, Chad, Caitlyn, Andrew, Gradye *** But we didn’t miss all of the miracles. Talk about resurrection sightings. The sun was so bright we couldn’t quite see on the way out, but on the way back, there they were. Not all of those shattered, broken trees have been left that way. A skilled chainsaw artist has worked on trees along the highway and on the median strip, taking what was a sign of destruction and creating simply stunning works of art and promise and hope.   Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. 1 John 3:2 God is all in all, Steve Shussett -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -   A Roman Catholic Church that was destroyed.                        grotto left standing                                                     cross              lot where the church once stood -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Monday, November 24, 2008   Group Photo  Our first day on the job, just outside of Kiln, Mississippi, the home of future football hall-of-famer Brett Favre of the Green Bay…er …New York Jets. If Brett likes to get away in the off-season, you can’t get much more away than this. The GPS is mute, but a picture is worth a thousand words: nothing but the road we’re on. *** We met our immediate supervisor today, who led us to our worksite. A friendly guy, who has been fighting—and losing to— some kind of bug for two weeks now. As the day wears on he actually seems better, but at first he looks like he needs a bed more than a day of supervising. We’re supposed to get thunderstorms around noon today, so maybe he’ll catch a break. Getting our instructions *** When we get to the soon-to-be-house, there are already two folks hard at work, a husband and wife from upper New York state and Northern New York Presbytery. They’ve been at it for several days now, but don’t seem troubled in the least to share the project! ***   I’m a “cutter” today, which I believe in Ugaritic means: “no roofs for you.” My son Daniel is my assistant, and we go from really busy to really quiet, depending on how much wood folks need cut at a given moment. I’m not sure that people aren’t making up numbers like 7/16th , but they insist they need the wood cut to that specification. *** Alicia & Daniel with Phoebe. . .Alexa . . . or Beggar? The most popular guest of the day is Phoebe…or Alexa…or Beggar, whatever her name is, a female pit bull who is enjoying a whole lot of free food. She is a real sweetheart, following us around, coming when we call, and of course eating anything and everything that is offered her. ***      Roofers:  Jim Millick and Rachel Shussett It wasn’t exactly an Amish barn-raising, but we did make a good bit of progress before the rains hit four hours later than expected. But boy, when they came! It was a doozy. I wonder how long it took folks to not get panicky when this kind of storm hits, if indeed they’ve healed that much by now. We’ve apparently made more headway on the house than usually happens on a Monday, and I think we have high hopes for this place by the end of the week. But for now everyone’s a wee bit tired. God is all in all, Steve -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Tuesday, November 25, 2008 Transformation comes in different shapes and sizes. We are here in the hopes of transforming people’s lives as a home is replaced, and all of the things that “home” symbolizes. And watching it take shape—“It’s actually starting to look like a house” rings out every once in a while—gives substance to all the work that is being done. At the same time, Diane’s brother, Brian, and I talked a lot about church transformation on Sunday. Like our own Bob Nickels, Brian is an MBA-kind of guy, teaching, working with businesses in the US and abroad, and able to connect the dots between his expertise and his faith. Brian is working with several churches, of several denominations, in their own transformative process. And in its own way just as significant, there is a thirty-something man here who spends some of the year helping with the re-building, and the rest of the year doing other things. He’s identified real changes in his life in the years he’s been doing this stuff, and the energy he brings to identifying his new reality is quite striking. Too often we identify transformation too narrowly, without observing the real resurrections that take place around us and within us.   putting a beam on the porch. No, I’m not supervising: I already did my part of the heavy lifting and got out of the way! So close! ***  The comedian Bill Maher has something he calls “new rules” on his TV show. Basically he observes something in the world and then decides on a rule that he feels is needed. My New Rule: If you can build your own house, then you ought to be giving your time to help folks build their own house. Some of us have to help out where we can, but if you know what you’re doing, there’s no excuse. Brian Shussett kids on the roof with our foreman, Jim Millick *** We live in a world where it is not enough anymore to know a five-digit zip code. Now there are four more you’re supposed to remember. Then there is here, where the turn into the lot where we’re working is marked by an upside-down blue bicycle. *** Our supervisor, Lynn, said one of the funniest things I’ve heard in a long time this morning. He was talking about some small town with a name fifteen letters long, and “they don’t use but five of them!” God is all in all, Steve -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Wednesday, November 26, 2008 I’m new to this blogging thing—am I supposed to be honest…or something else? J Well, if I’m going to tell the truth, Tuesday was kind of a tough day for me. It was all roofing stuff, and heights are not my strength, to say the least. I did get up into the rafters a little and helped move some boards into place, but as I wouldn’t get on the outside of the roof, my utility was limited, to say the least. To be honest, I didn’t have to be on the roof to feel useful, but you have to know something about what you are doing and what is needed before you can show initiative. Knowing little to nothing about what had to happen, I needed some direction, but all were on the roof who could be on the roof. Made for a long day. But that was Tuesday. Wednesday morning, my biblical reflection was on Peter’s decision to jump into the water in order to swim to the resurrected Jesus who was making breakfast on the beach. I was struck by the thought that there might be other disciples who wanted to follow suit, but were reluctant to take the plunge—literally. And so I made a promise to myself that I would not only get on the outside of the roof, but touch the peak of the roof. I ended up handing out shingles for quite a while sitting on the roof. While the photo only proves the adage that the camera adds fifty pounds (or something like that!), I’m pleased to say “mission accomplished,” and more. Because not much later I had to go over the roof to the other side. It was as though God felt I hadn’t pushed myself far enough! *** Brian spent the day cutting pieces of wood into something he called “birds beaks” for use on the porch roof. Each one of these “open mouths” took quite a while to make because they had individual measurements, and there were probably twenty of them at least. I was suddenly struck by the notion that while we say God cares about every bird, how much attention does God put into the creation of every bird, even every bird’s mouth. Each one unique in all the world, the many muscles and other organs needed for opening and closing and swallowing and digesting. It takes the whole gestation period of a bird just to get things ready, and then a lifetime keeping those same parts in working order. O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. Psalm 104:24  *** To get back to “Up on the Roof”: while I wasn’t thrilled to be up there, what really put my nerves on edge was watching other people up there—especially my kids. It is hard to watch and know that you can’t really help them at a certain point. They, God, and the laws of physics have to work things out. For Daniel it was a new experience, while Rachel has built a roof with Faith Emmaus’ work camp and scampers around almost as comfortably as one of the “monkey crew” as I call them. In fact Rachel and Alicia, along with quite a few from the crew, spent hours, literally, sitting and working up there. In some ways it was my anxiety at watching them that brought me down, more than my own feelings at being high. One near slip, but otherwise uneventful, apart from my blood pressure! Rachel in the Rafters    Break time on the roof *** Meanwhile, our buddy Beggar (the name that seems to have won) has really made herself at home. It doesn’t hurt that now we bring dog food each day, and have plastic containers to fill with food and water. But when the van doors are left open, which they usually are, she saunters in, finds a comfortable spot, and commences to take a nap or a bath. Despite the dog food we bring, she can also pick out the rustling of brown paper bags over the din of the compressor in a way that only a dog or cat can. We can barely hear each other speak, and at “rustle, rustle” she’s going “Fruit cup, granola bar, ham and cheese with mayo on white.” God is all in all, Steve -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Thursday, November 27, 2008 Thanksgiving in Mississippi. It hardly feels like a day any different from the others at the start, other than Diane Millick and Alicia staying behind to make the feast, while everyone else goes to the site. In the past some of the kids have stayed behind for homework or a rest day, but not this time. *** I haven’t said much about our home away from home. With just Alicia and I it isn’t too claustrophobic, but there is not much space for alone time (in the camper’s defense, we shut off a room with about several beds in it that we don’t need). For a week it is fine, and it shows that our post-retirement home will not be a Cabela’s cabin! But more directly, it does give one pause for the families of three, four, five people or more who have been living in trailers not that different from this one for years. The stress levels just from proximity to other people all the time must be huge. Jim and I talked about this—ironically enough, when it was just the two of us driving in a van—and how much the table project (http://www.shenango.org/PDF/News/The%20Western%20Pennsylvania%20Table%20Project.pdf ) must mean to folks when they finally get a home. “All I wanted was a table!” one woman said. It would be hard for a trailer table to be kitchen table, homework table, meeting table, especially at the same time. Yet we ask that of our tables all the time, and at our best, ask that it be our Lord’s Table all the while. Fortunately that last is out of our hands; all we have to do is be aware of that. If only it were that easy.  *** I mentioned the missing upside down bike, our only marker to the trail on which our worksite is found. Daniel and I took some slightly bent nails that are used to hold roof felt down, with green or orange plastic circles on them, and pounded out an “L” on a piece of wood, as that is the lot’s “name.” The ground is hard clay, so I said the sign wouldn’t be here next year when the Millicks come, so Jim suggested they take it and use it at next year’s site. “You watch,” I said. “Next year it will be the ‘M’ lot!” *** Just a thought: after spending quite a bit of time stacking wood into piles, according to size and colored end, and then doing so the next day: is this the homebuilder’s version of pounding big rocks into little rocks? *** I can honestly say that this is a Thanksgiving like no other. Usually it is kind of a lazy day for those of us not cooking. When we are hosting dinner, the house begins to smell wonderful starting early in the day, parades in the morning giving way to football or the dog show in the afternoon (even I can only take so much of the Detroit Lions!). But not this time. All but Alicia and Diane took off for the worksite at our usual time, brown bagged lunches perhaps down-sized to reflect the feast that was to come in the late afternoon. No smells meant no midday drooling in anticipation. If someone didn’t say something about it being Thanksgiving, I would not have even remembered it was today! It was not until we returned to the chefs putting the finishing touches on dinner that that part of the day fell into place. By then, folks started to arrive, presenting yet another difference from our usual Thanksgiving. There is sometimes someone new at the table, but now the people I didn’t know far outnumbered those I did! We had about 24 people from the church and community join us for dinner, each with a story to tell. And while I hope we are always thankful on Thanksgiving, when people share the stories that they did today, it is palpable in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever really experienced before. What a blessing! Another Thanksgiving first: seeing a movie after the feast. Australia: five stars, two thumbs up! God is all in all, Steve -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Friday, November 28, 2008 A day of two crews: Most folks were up on the roof, in the rain, trying desperately to finish the whole thing off before we go. Just enough rain to make folks stop and scurry, move the equipment into a dry area, and break for lunch. And then it stopped. Just not fair.  The rest of us were building box after box after box, which is all a wall comes down to in the end. I’ve heard “measure twice, cut once,” but this was more a matter of “hammer once, de-nail several times.” *** One of the great and unexpected highlights of my trip took place Friday night. Just before we left for Mississippi, Alicia checked Weather.com, only to see on the map that Mobile, Alabama really wasn’t very far. I called my “big brother,” whom I hadn’t seen in about ten years, to learn that not only would he be in town, but so would sisters, cousins, and a whole slew of other family members whom I hadn’t seen in years, or ever for that matter! Olabode used to live across the street from my family when I started middle school (!) We’ve kept up with photos and semi-annual phone calls, but we’ve never been to southern Alabama (can you imagine that?). We showed up to a wonderful southern feast of old friends and new, gumbo and ribs, and stories and catching up. It really was a Thanksgiving, Part II. I had said to Alicia that with a long travel day ahead, we should probably aim to leave by 9pm so we’d get to bed by 10. I didn’t notice the time until it was 10pm! Whatever exhaustion we faced was worth it. God is all in all, Steve  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - Saturday, November 29, 2008      We planned to leave no later than 1pm. The greatest plans of mice. One crew spent a lot of the morning trying to finish the roof (and they came quite close), others were cleaning our trailers and church site, while others still worked on a set for the Westminster Presbyterian Church Christmas pageant. (I was involved in #2 and 3).  It was about 3pm when we left, driving to Biloxi to see some Katrina-affected sites, visit the Hard Rock Café, and see the Katrina Memorial built by the cast of Extreme Makeover. Hard Rock was interesting, not least of which because this was not just a restaurant, which we are used to, but a casino. It was completed just days before Katrina, and largely destroyed just before its grand opening. The Shussett family has been to several Hard Rocks, so it is fun to check a new one off of the list. We each bought a t-shirt. The one I purchased, a winged musical note, publicized and supported Music Rising “a campaign dedicated to replacing the lost or destroyed instruments of musicians, churches and schools throughout the region.” I really like the resurrection sense of it. As for the memorial (http://www.gulf-coast.com/Attractions/KatrinaMemorialBiloxi.html or http://biloxi.ms.us/katrina_and_Biloxi/Katrina_Memorial.html ) , it notes the date of Katrina, and focuses on a glass box containing memorabilia donated by survivors. There are clocks, awards, a fire extinguisher covered in barnacles, and pottery. The stuff of normalcy marking a most abnormal time. Most striking to me was a crucifix in which the screw connecting the upper part of Jesus and the cross had come loose. What was left was Jesus, arms outstretched, perpendicular to the cross. As a last sight of Mississippi, to see Jesus flying from the cross, above the rubble, was an image to match any of the many resurrection sightings.  *** At that point we began our nineteen-plus hour trek home, driving through almost continuous rain and hitting traffic caused by the Alabama-Auburn football game. Given the length and breadth of the trip, I’m glad to say it was uneventful. But the trip as a whole was truly memorable, in ways that I will likely unpack for some time to come. This was a trip over Thanksgiving, so it is only right to end with thanksgiving—to the folks who made for such a remarkable time. ~Those who opened up their lives to us, sharing stories, fears, and dreams ~The folks at Westminster Presbyterian Church that provided us a place to call home ~The Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and recovery staff, and long-term volunteers ~ and most of all, my companions on this journey. Each of you brought something special, and demonstrated your own brand of energy, intelligence, imagination, and love. Special thanks to Jim, Diane, and Brian for their patience and understanding with someone as hardware-deficient and height-neurotic as me, and for all of the leadership and planning it took to pull this endeavor off.  One last note: I learned that the Gulfport recovery efforts have been given a significant Housing and Urban Development grant that must be used between early 2009 and mid 2010. If you are considering a first trip, or planning your next one, think about that stretch of time. I’ll be glad to put you in touch with the folks down there who can help make it happen.  God is all in all,   Steve -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - .